The Return of The Sucky Fanfic Writer
by tuxiedog2
Summary: Ok had some problems with the old one...here we go again! THE FOURTH LOTR MOVIE IS IN PRODUCTION, AND THEY HAVE CHOSEN ME TO WRITE IT! (not really...) Frodo, Sam, and the Ring all have strange new desires in their life...puzzle pieces to be fit togethe


THE LORD OF THE RINGS 4:

THE RETURN OF THE SUCKY FANFIC WRITER

By tuxidog2, the sucky fanfic writer

CHAPTER ONE

Frodo woke up one morning in the Grey Havens place with an urge. An urge to leave this heavenly place and find somewhere more like…well, you know.

At the same time, Samwise Gamgee woke up with an urge. An urge to leave the side of Rosie and find someone more like…well, you know.

And at the same time, in a place so far, far away covered in ash and fire the Ring woke up with an urge. An urge to leave this liquidy form and find a form more…well, you know.

One morning. Three awakenings. Strange desires….well, you know.

CHAPTER TWO

"NO!" cried Frodo as one of those famous old elf-people farted in the next bed. Too bad all heavenly food was gassy. Because fat doesn't go to your hips in heaven. It doesn't go anywhere. It just is. But this fatty food is also farty food. Yum. What tasty air. Gourmet.

And too bad they didn't get their own rooms in heaven either. Cause then nobody would have to care about the taste bud-tantalizing air. Only important people got their own rooms. Like Gandalf. Too bad Frodo wasn't Gandalf. But did Gandalf save Middle Earth? I don't think so. All he did was fall of a cliff. Anyway, Frodo couldn't help but be reminded of a hospital. Or a nursing home. Lots of smelly people sharing rooms.

If this is heaven, why is it so unheavenly?

CHAPTER THREE

Samwise Gamgee was hungry. As usual. But he was not hungry for FARTY food. He was not hungry for _any _food. He was hungry for the missing piece in his life.

"What is the missing piece?" he wonders aloud. Rosie grunts and rolls over in her bed, cranking up the volume on her headphones. "_I like big butts…"_ she mumbles aloud. Samwise Gamgee wonders if he meets this criteria. If not, he doesn't care. He wants out.

Samwise Gamgee looks around the room. Cloaks, boots, walking sticks, catnip (which is legal to smoke in Hobbiton), leftover Gorton's Fried Fish Portions from last week…and what was this? Samwise Gamgee sat up straight in bed.

"I'm going on an adventure," he tells Rosie.

Rosie grunts and pulls the covers over her head and turns up the volume again.

Now Samwise Gamgee can actually hear the words. But Rosie turns over again before he can find out what the word is that comes after "_and that butt you got makes me so…_" Regardless, it makes him think of Frodo.

Frodo…

CHAPTER THREE

The Ring pondered his options. So, he didn't want to be a liquid blob of molten lava anymore. What other states of matter does he have to choose from?

He summons Ms. Jackson (name changed to protect the author from getting murdered by the school or put into juvenile detention or under surveillance by the CIA or something).

"Well, you can be a solid, liquid, gas, or plasma," she states.

"Huh?" asks the Ring. "And what is the difference?"

"There is none. They are all states of matter."

"But I don't get it."

"You should listen in class better!"

"Uh…so what's the difference?"

"I said, you should have listened better. Now get crakin' cause you have a lab report on this due on your next three day."

_Three day? Huh? It all seems so implausible._

CHAPTER FOUR

Frodo was happy. Yet sad. Yet happy. Who knows the mind of a hobbit? All we know is that he is a hobbit. A very hobbity hobbit at that.

"Oh no!" he cried as the old elf-guy let rip another one in the next bed. Heaven was heaven. That's why he was happy. Yet it also had its drawbacks. That's why he was sad.

Then the old elf-guy started mumbling something. _He must be talking in his sleep_, Frodo thought.

"_Edible antlers don't taste good on toast,_" the elf-guy mumbled. "_Noooo!!! Not the staple gun!"_

AHHHHHH!!!!! ANNOYANCES!!!!!

Ok, this was really starting to piss Frodo off. The elf-guy started thrashing around in his sleep. Then he started cracking his knuckles in his sleep. And trying to make rice pudding in his sleep, but it didn't work too well due to the lack of ingredients.

NOOOOO!!!!! WHY?!?!?!?!

Frodo cringed. This was torture! What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to escape this pain? This SUFFERING? This was harder to bear than the Ring! There was no way to escape!!! He would be stuck here FOREVER!!! In this TORTURE!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

"Wait," Frodo said, suddenly realizing something. "Duh! What am I, stupid?"

Frodo walked over to the unlocked door, opened it, and walked out of the room.

CHAPTER FIVE

Samwise Gamgee was licking the strawberry sauce from the crepes he ate for breakfast off of his lips when he walked out of the door of Bag End that morning. He had indulged in a whim once and had taken a French breakfast cooking class once. They learned how to cook two things: crepes and Americans. Samwise Gamgee wasn't completely sure what an American was or why it was such a popular French breakfast, but he discovered that when lightly sautéed in a little garlic and onions it tasted quite tasty. Needless to say, whenever the French ate this sautéed American for breakfast, their breath stunk like bad stuff. Try garlic and onion.

So anyhow Samwise Gamgee had begun walking down the road twisting away from Bag End with his pack full of junk. Pots and pans, the Gorton's Fried Fish Portions, random string, his trusty catnip, and Rosie's headphones that he grabbed when she went to the little hobbit's room. He _REALLY _wanted to find out what came after "_and that butt you got makes me so_…" Too bad he couldn't figure out how to work the headphones.

Oh yeah, and of course he had that thing that he saw in his room that caused him to go on the adventure. It was in his pocket. He took a peek at it and giggled.

Soon he was hungry again.

"I wonder how a Gorton's Fried Fish Portions crepe would taste?" he thought aloud.

CHAPTER SIX

The Ring was extremely confused. Ms. Jackson made completely no sense. What was a lab report? What was a three day? And what is biology?

And if he wanted to be a state of matter other than liquid, why would she say that his options were solid, _liquid_, gas and plasma?

Stupid. That's what it was.

Oh well. Back to business.

After asking Ms. Jackson if she would like to experience the, _uh_, scientific fun of a scene from Lord of the Rings and she saying yes, the Ring pushed her into the Cracks of Doom.

_Ah…the sweet smell of unnecessary human disposal._

Anyway, Ms. Jackson left a biology book on the ground before she went swimming so the Ring was able to look in there and figure out that he wanted to be a solid because, after all, that was what he was before.

But how would he become a solid?

"Hmmmm…" the Ring says. "I think I need a new image."

CHAPTER SEVEN

The air outside of the room was much more appealing to Frodo than the air inside the room. It still amazed him that he had forgotten that he could go in and out at whim. He must really be a stupid hobbit.

The door from the room led onto a cobblestone path that twisted a few yards until it met the main cobblestone road. Frodo wasn't sure why they had chosen cobblestone. After all, riding a bike down this road could really cause some groin pain. Frodo knew. He had experienced it. Ow.

The sky was still dark. Shiz. Frodo was kind of hoping that it was morning, because then he could do something interesting. There were no lights outside and. He was too friggin tired to look for one. And he was too friggin tired to go anywhere else, although apparently there was a nice little indoo shuffleboard court a few streets down. Oh well. And he certainly didn't want to go back into Mr. Fartsinator's room. So Frodo was stuck outside.

Frodo sat and stared into the blackness for a little. It was oh so interesting…oh so black. Fun. He knew what the other houses looked like by heart. He usually spent the day outside too because even if the old elf-guy wasn't in the house, the smell lingered. Any food you attempted to store in there would spoil within three minutes.

Nothing happened. Frodo stared. A cat with spectacle making around its eyes passed by. He stared some more. He caught a whiff of Mr. Beansalot inside. Exciting.

Then it hits Frodo. He wants out.

Now.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sam hummed obliviously as he trotted through the woods. He was so exited. He was going to find the missing piece in his life!

YAY!

And he had his trusty little item in his pocket that told him exactly where to find it.

But right now, he was lost.

For some reason, that word reminded him of his good friend Merry, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Maybe because Merry was always lost.

Like Samwise Gamgee was now.

So he decides to ask for directions. He skips over to the shack at the side of the road, hobbit fat jiggling with each leap. Approaching the door of the shack, he notices that there is a sign over the door that says "Aunt Josiah's Quick Check." Who Aunt Josiah is, Samwise Gamgee doesn't care.

"I'm going in…." he states.

He creaks open the door and looks around. It looked like an average Quick Check, full of stuff. Farmer Maggot's Mushroom Power Bars. "Orcs with Forks" (the new TV show on the Hobbit Broadcasting Company) trading cards. Salt and vinegar chips. Nothing interesting. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Samwise Gamgee approaches the counter. A squat hobbit woman is sitting behind it reading a magazine titled 'Your Warts and You'. "Uh…Aunt Josiah?" Samwise Gamgee tentatively asks.

"Aunt Jerimiah. Josiah's in the back." the woman answer without looking up from her article. Samise Gamgee glances at it and wonders why anyone would want to read an article titled 'Bobby, Frodo, and Esmerelda: The Perfect Names for Your Warts' or why anyone would want to name their wart Frodo. Or anything else for that matter.

"So, whadya want?" Jerimiah asks.

"Uh…I need directions."

"To where?"

"Uh…." Samwise Gamgee thinks. And thinks. And thinks.

CHAPTER NINE

The Ring ponders his options. How to become a solid? He consults the bio book.

"I have to freeze myself?" he asks. "What kinda crap is that? I didn't have to freeze myself to become a liquid!"

And where is he supposed to find anywhere cold enough around here? All he knows is ash. And smoke. And fire. And the sound of Ms. Jackson gurgling in the ash and smoke and fire.

CHAPTER TEN

_Note to self:_, Frodo thinks, _clothespins hurt. A lot._

Frodo gingerly tiptoed into the room and paused. A few snores from the next bed. A small grunt. Otherwise silence.

He tiptoed over the bed and grabbed a few essentials. A cloak. A backpack. Food. Water. All that crap. And some other stuff, like his sheets, the faux One Ring he was given as a gag gift at his "Welcome to Heaven" party…

…and the old elf-guy's sleeping medication. Oops.

Soon Frodo was on his way trudging down the cobblestone road, his foot getting lodged in the stones every few feet. He was on his way. He was not looking back. Now was a new beginning. He was on his way, striding towards the metaphorical bright new sun that was the dawn of his new life…

Except that it was still night. And black.

we apologize but the production company refused to pay the author for her awful script, although technically it isn't a script. Unfortunately, writing is paused for now. May continue later. Sorry for any inconvenience.


End file.
